


Like a Breath of Fresh Air

by Hypnobyl



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-13 06:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12978156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hypnobyl/pseuds/Hypnobyl
Summary: Cat and Kara lead lives that are way too busy--but if they try, they find time to reconnect.





	Like a Breath of Fresh Air

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alatyosi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alatyosi/gifts).



When Cat wakes to the sound of her alarm clock at half past five in the morning, she instinctively reaches across the bed to pull her bedmate closer. Her fingers land on warm sheets, so she instead reaches to the nightstand for her phone. There are two texts waiting for her, from an hour prior and then thirty minutes later. The first reads, “Sorry. Building on the east side collapsing.” 

Her heart thuds a little faster until she opens the second message: “Safe.”

By the time she’s pouring coffee in the kitchen, there’s a picture waiting in her e-mail inbox of Supergirl kneeling in front of a dusty child, both smiling broadly at the other. In the background, other survivors stand wrapped in blankets with the emergency responders tending to those in need. It may not win a Pulitzer, but she’s grateful all the same to have something to add to front page of the website.

“Carter, you’re going to be late,” she calls on her way to the bathroom to shower and prepare for the day. He hates getting up at six o’clock, but he hates getting dropped off at school by her more. She tries not to take it personally, as she knows that other kids tease him for his wealth and her public persona, but every day he runs to catch a bus instead of discussing the morning news crackling in over the car’s radio with her is a tiny papercut on her heart.

She hears the thud from his bedroom, which means he’s up--or at least, he’s fallen out of bed. Smiling to herself, she shuts the bathroom door and begins mentally preparing for her day. If she remembers correctly, she has a meeting with Yorke Schock first thing, and she’s not looking forward to soothing his ego. The numbers for his radio show--Schock Talk--have gone down since he started talking politics, and he chafes every time she asks him to talk about something else. He should consider himself lucky that she doesn’t just fire him--but Leslie still weighs heavily on her mind.

Over the thrum of the shower, she hears Carter yell a parting, “I love you!” She hopes he remembered to grab the brown paper bag from the kitchen counter. She doesn’t trust the nutritional value of the so-called food provided by the high school, even if Carter sees it as his one chance to have pizza and fries more than once a month.

As she steps out into an empty apartment, she’s struck by just how distant everyone is. She can’t remember the last time she and Kara had a moment alone, nor can she recall having all three of them in the same place for more than a few minutes. Heart heavy, she realizes that this is part and parcel of being a busy CEO, a busy superhero, and a busy teenaged boy.

She has Elizabeth, her driver du jour, take her straight to CatCo while she browses other local news sites. There’s mentions of the building collapse, but nobody has a good shot of the hero at work. Kara does that on purpose, or so she says; she moves faster whenever she hears a shutter click, so all other photographers capture is a blur of blue and red.

She’s still browsing as she steps into the private elevator and rides up to the fortieth floor. Stepping out, she accepts a coffee from Eve--lukewarm and with one two many packets of sugar--and subsequently drops the cup into a waiting trashcan. She ignores the look of frustration on Eve’s face and moves to her desk. As eight o’clock rolls by without Yorke appearing, she sends Eve a message to reschedule with him for much later in the week.

Thirty minutes later, he strides in and plops onto her couch, his legs spread wide and his boots decidedly dirty. She resists the urge to call for the janitorial staff, as she can all but see with perfect clarity the crud he’s tracking all over her carpet. Thankfully, he doesn’t kick his feet up onto her glass coffee table.

“You’re late.”

“Am I?” He makes a show of checking his watch-less wrist.

“Forty-five minutes.”

“Lost track of time,” he says, flapping his hand. “Had to get some sound bites ready to play during Ellie’s pop rock hour this afternoon.”

“Do you know how much my time is worth?” She leans forward, bracing her elbows on her desk.

“Chill out. I’m here now, aren’t I?”

She appraises him and tries to remember why she didn’t want to fire him before. “I suppose you are. And I have fifteen minutes of our appointment left to tell you about the new time slot for your program.”

There’s a lengthy pause.

“New time slot.”

“Yes. Your numbers are too low to sustain the prominent position your show holds at the moment.”

“My numbers are fine.”

“Fine does not keep a media empire in business, Mr. Schock. I’m shifting your program to our late night block. You’ll go on at twelve-thirty in the evening.”

“That’s crazy.” He stands suddenly, glaring at her. “Nobody’s going to listen at midnight.”

“Nobody’s listening now,” she retorts.

He takes a step toward her, and then the door to her office swings open. Kara pokes her head in meekly. “Ms. Grant? I know I’m early for our nine o’clock, but one of my other meetings got moved down. Is it possible to start now?”

Cat smiles at Yorke humorlessly and gestures to the door. “Before we continue this conversation, I suggest you think long and hard about your prospects.”

He swallows hard but nods. Brushing by Kara on his way out, he mutters darkly. Kara flushes as she enters, letting Cat know the sort of commentary he had made under his breath. Cat gestures for her to walk out onto the balcony, which will afford them a modicum of privacy. Kara all but flings herself into the morning sunlight, tilting her face up into the warmth.

“Long morning?”

Kara beams at the clouds. “Nobody died.”

“Good to hear.” Cat trails her fingers down Kara’s arm, and Kara instinctively leans into the touch.

Before either of them can get comfortable, however, Kara’s attention snaps to something in the distance. She frowns and glances at Cat, and Cat nods her understanding.

“Another building suffering instability,” Kara explains after stealing a kiss. She floats into the air. “I’m beginning to think these aren’t accidents.”

“Keep me updated.”

“Always.”

Cat watches her zip into the clouds and sighs. One minute and thirty seconds. Did this even count as dating anymore? She can’t contain a bark of a laugh at the thought, knowing full well they were devoted to each other, no matter the other commitments in life. This particular commitment takes up most of Kara’s day, as Cat doesn’t receive a text until three-forty-five. The single word allows her to release her breath and work without fretting. After too many times left waiting, Cat has convinced Kara to send her an update after every battle as soon as possible. If Kara is indisposed, Alex takes on the task.

She hates getting texts from Agent Scully because that means there are two words coming instead of one. “Not safe” has the potential to crumble the careful control she has over her emotions.

Despite the text, she doesn’t actually see Kara until dinnertime rolls around, and Kara brings her a delicate cut of medium-rare steak from her favorite steakhouse in New York. Unfortunately, she has a dinner meeting with the publisher for her first fiction novel; Kara pops the steak in her own mouth, claiming that good food should never go to waste.

“But you’re still going to be home in time for Survivor: International Space Station, right?”

Cat doesn’t want to make promises she can’t keep. “I’ll try, but…”

“But it’s with Sandra, and she talks a lot.” Kara sighs. “Okay. We’ll record it and watch it this weekend?”

“You’re chaperoning Carter’s Super Scout camping trip.”

“Oh.”

Cat kisses the corner of her mouth. “We’ll find time soon.”

“I know,” Kara replies, her usual optimism slipping back into her voice and smile. “Don’t let her convince you to do coffee and dessert. You’re not supposed to have caffeine past--”

“Past six, I know. Thank you, darling.”

“I’ll make sure Carter gets something healthy for dinner. Maybe I’ll make some spaghetti with those fresh vegetables we picked out at the farmer’s market.”

Cat wishes she could be there, too, but this seems to be their life now. They separate at the elevator, and she endures three hours of Sandra’s overly abundant supply of essential news. People are so excited about Intentional Deceptions, and she’s already got a list of reviewers clamoring for a chance to give an early review. Not to mention, pre-orders are three times larger than they first expected, and they’re willing to give her a contract for another book.

She declines the offer, not having enjoyed the experience of writing the first one. Fiction is an interesting experience, but she prefers the solidity of facts and truth. Thankfully, her decline marks the end of the meal--although Sandra makes her promise to think about the contract a bit longer before making any final decisions.

The thought of Kara waiting at home for her has her urging Elizabeth to drive more quickly through the crowded city. She taps her foot impatiently during the elevator ride up and gratefully slips her key into the lock just as the clock ticks over nine-thirty. She’s definitely missed the television show, but she should still be able to catch both her family members still awake enough for conversation.

“Carter?” She eases her heels off and massages her feet. “Kara?”

“Bedroom!”

She pads through the quiet home, letting the stress from her day ease from the tense muscles of her shoulders and back. She ought to schedule a massage for mid-next week, unless she wants to feel like her torso is made of concrete. “Sandra had so much to tell me, you wouldn’t believe.”

“Yeah? Did you get to hear about all three of her sons?”

“Oh my goodness,” Cat mimics. “Simon is gay! I would never have guessed. He used to bring all those girls home. He was so popular with them.”

Kara’s laughter fills the hall. “If being popular with other genders is all it takes to be straight, then I’m in so much trouble.”

“I’ll have to write a new expose. Cat Grant in facade relationship with fake bisexual only interested in men.”

“It’ll make national headlines.”

Cat steps into the bedroom and halts abruptly. Sweet smelling candles litter the flat surfaces, casting flickering shadows on the walls, and Kara lies on her belly in bed, her ankles crossed behind her. She’s wearing a sheer negligee--stolen, she’s sure, from her side of the closet as Kara doesn’t own anything like that. Except the garment seems to fit Kara’s lankier form, which suggests it is indeed Kara’s.

“Hey,” Kara says, smiling softly.

“Hey.” Cat stands in the doorway for a few moments more, her eyes still soaking in the scene. “What’s all this?”

“I thought we could use some time to catch up. Reconnect.”

“Well, yes.”

“So, Carter very kindly went to spend the night with Winn. I’ve been told they’ll be up all night playing video games and eating trash.”

Cat slowly undoes the buttons on her blouse. “That’s awfully irresponsible.”

“Would you like me to call and cancel? Winn could have him here in about twenty minutes, depending on traffic.”

“I suppose one all-nighter won’t hurt him.” 

Piece by piece, Cat’s clothing falls away. She crawls into bed and presses herself to Kara, from lips to chest; their legs intertwine, and Kara’s fingers feel the way good scotch tastes, smooth and warming. They meld together, touching and kissing, until Cat comes with a quiet gasp and Kara follows soon after. Cat falls back and stares at the ceiling, and Kara comes to rest on her chest.

“I’ve missed you.”

Cat strokes her back, glad as always that Kara is willing to start emotional discussions. She’s still hesitant to be open about her feelings, but it helps that Kara makes herself vulnerable first.

“Life has felt hollow without you,” she confides. “The colors aren’t as bright.”

“I thought you didn’t like poetry.”

“You bring it out in me, I suppose.”

Kara blushes prettily and cuddles closer. “We need to make sure this happens more often, Cat.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Even leaving work by six every evening?”

Cat laughs and tweaks Kara’s earlobe. “Don’t push your luck.”

“We think there’s something going on, maybe an alien. The building instability--it’s not natural. Someone is causing it.”

“What do you know?”

Kara places a finger on Cat’s lips. “I know that look. You will not chase this story down.”

Cat rolls her eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

“We found evidence that the foundations had been disrupted. We don’t know how, but Alex says there’s no way it happened without sentient intervention.”

“So, you’ll be busy for a while, too?”

Kara nods. “And that’s why it’s so important to me that we have these moments. Cat, you’re my strength. Just as the sun helps my body heal, you’ve always healed my heart.”

Cat is willing to share feelings, but this is approaching saccharine. “Glad to be of service,” she replies lightly.

“I’m serious, Cat. I need this. I need you.”

Swallowing hard, Cat relents. “I need you as well. I promise we won’t go so long without a date night again.”

“I’ll have Eve set up a monthly appointment.”

“Oh, don’t. She can’t even get coffee right.”

“You’re being too hard on her. She doesn’t have laser-vision to heat it up right as you arrive.”

Cat huffs and puffs until Kara tickles her sides, and they fall into each other once more.


End file.
